Sticks and Stones
by anakinlove
Summary: Damian finds just haw badly words can hurt sometimes.   "I'd never seen Dick cry before..."


It was the first time I had ever seen him crying. His shoulders started shaking and he put his face in his hands, short, strangled sobs issuing from him. He shook almost erratically. His long, dark hair fell down in front of his eyes, masking them from me.

The sound of him weeping was so foreign to me. Dick was the happiest person I knew, yet here he was, crying as if the world was ending. I usually hated it when people cried. It was so pathetic, those stupid weak tears and those dumb sounds they made.

Their eyes got all puffy and their noses started to run. It was just disgusting and usually made me want to empty my stomach. But, watching Grayson cry, I wasn't filled with my usual repulsion. It was so strange. Something else stirred within me, something alien and exotic. I felt sympathy for him.

It was the first time I had ever felt sympathy in my whole life. I hadn't even known what it was before but, as it stirred in my soul, I knew exactly what I was feeling. He just sounded so lost, so alone. I suppose he was so used to leaning on my father, when he ran into something he couldn't handle, he couldn't take it. There was no one for him to turn to.

I didn't think I had upset him that badly. The words I had said were not even that bad. He should have been used to hearing them by now. I remembered, in fact, exactly what I had said to him because I had been so angry when I said it.

"I HATE YOU SO MUCH GRAYSON. My god, you think you're such an incredible Batman but you suck. You are awful. You're defiling Father's memory. You and Drake were just stupid mistakes he made. You must have been just bouts of misjudgment for him.

Well, I have news for you. I will never love you, not ever. I don't care about you at all. You could die right now and I wouldn't even care. No wonder your parents threw themselves off a trapeze. No wonder Father died. It's all your fault. You hear me Grayson, just go and die."

I remembered those words because I remembered the way Dick had looked at me after I had said them. There was more pain in his eyes than I had ever seen in anyone's. But, he had managed to hold his voice steady when he spoke to me.

"Well", he said softly, "if that's the way you feel, no one's making you stay." With that, he had turned around and walked off. And now, here he was, curled up in his room and crying as if his heart were broken into a million small pieces. I felt like crying just watching him. It was the first time I had felt this way, but I knew I was about to cry too. Had I really hurt him that badly?

Unable to cope with the enormous amount of feelings now overwhelming my system, I walked quietly into the room. He didn't see me. He was sobbing too hard. I put a hand on his leg. "Dick", I murmured softly, "It…it'll be ok. Please don't cry." He raised his head, shock in his eyes.

"Damian", he said, surprised. I could see him physically forcing back his sorrow as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "What is it?" he asked. His reaction to me shocked me. I was the reason he was crying, yet he still showed concern for me.

"What's wrong?" I asked softly, unable to take an arrogant tone with him looking so vulnerable.

"Nothing", he replied, forcing a weak smile. It was such a facsimile of his normal one, I could feel my own heart breaking. I stared at him with an intensity in my eyes.

"What", he asked softly, Catwoman got your tongue?" He choked out a laugh at his own little joke and then it was as if he couldn't take it anymore. "You look so much like your dad", he said softly, his face screwing up with pain. And then, he was sobbing again, frantically, for it seemed holding it back had been too much of an effort.

"I'm sorry", he said between sobs, "I'm sorry. It's just, I miss my parents and your Father and Tim and Jason and Wally and…and…and you hate me and you're right, I'm an awful Batman. I'm a joke compared to what he was. I'm sorry, I'm sorry you have to listen to me. I'm sorry I'm crying."

And then, he just kept pouring out his soul to me, how much he missed his parents and the circus and how much he missed being little and living with Father and being with the Titans and bantering with Wally and teasing Drake.

He told me how much he wished things were simple like that again, when he had someone there for him, to protect him, to love him, how he never felt loved anymore, how everyone thought he was an awful Batman, how he was so stressed and felt so alone and how I had every right to hate him because he couldn't seem to do anything right by me.

And, every few minutes, he would apologize or tell me I could leave, or try to stem the flow of his tears, only to fall back into his frantic talking and sobbing. I just sat on the bed in silence, listening. Right when he started to sob about me again, I did something I never thought I would do.

I climbed up on his lap and put my arms around him, or at least, put them around as far as they would go. He was so shocked, he stopped crying for a moment. "I don't hate you", I said softly, "I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't really mean to make you cry." He sniffled and I could tell he was going to start bawling again in a moment.

"It's not your fault. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be pouring all this out on you. You shouldn't have to deal with me like this. I'm an adult." He shoulders started to shake again. "I mean, I know how much you hate it when people cry."

"It's ok", I replied as soothingly as I could, "I don't mind listening to you. You can cry if you want to. It'll be ok. Everything will be ok." His eyes filled up with tears again and he grasped me tightly, holding me as he sobbed. And I stroked his hair, speaking softly and gently to him, telling him it would all be ok. It was so out of character for me, I was shocked even at myself and my mother would have been appalled at me, but I couldn't help it.

He wept for about ten minutes more until finally, gasping for air, he wilted. He still held me tightly, but the ridgedness that had been in his form before was gone. I kissed his head. He lifted his face, gazing gratefully at me, and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Thank you", he murmured. I nodded. He gave a weak smirk. "I guess there'll always be a Wayne holding me when I cry." He kissed my cheek and ran a hand through my hair.

"You're a good kid Damian", he murmured. Then, still holding me, he fell back onto his bed, lying there with me sitting atop him and straddling his chest. "I'm going to take a nap", he said softly, yawning, "Care to join me?" I nodded and lay down on his chest, putting my head on his chest. He smoothed my hair and closed his eyes.

His breathing slowed and when I was totally sure he was asleep, I whispered, "I love you Dick."

He smirked. "I knew it", he said, "I just knew it."

"Grayson", I snapped, appalled, I thought you were asleep." He started to giggle, a high-pitched joyful sound that I hadn't realized I'd missed until that moment. It was so good to hear him laugh.

I squirmed out of his grasp and tried to get away, but he grabbed me again. "Rawr Damian", he growled, "I'm gona eat you."

"Eww, Grayson, that's disgusting." He hauled me up onto his lap and started nipping lightly at me. I scrambled out of his grasp.

"Come on", Dick said, "Don't I even get a grin? Man, I wish I got a fun kid. I used to beg Bruce to do stuff like that to me."

"I thought we already established you had problems", I said with a sniff. He giggled again. "I guess you're back to your old insufferable self."

"And I guess you're back to yours", I replied. We were silent for a moment when he pounced.

"Come here you", he snarled playfully, "I will make you smile." He grabbed me and pinned me to the bed, tickling me mercilessly. I screamed angrily and tried to get away, but he had me.

Finally, he stopped and I gasped for breath while he perched lightly atop me. "Thank you", he said softly, "for listening to me and for putting up with me. I'd be lost without you baby bird."

"Thank you for putting up with me", I replied softly. "I suppose life would be more complicated for me as well if you did not exist."

"Do you really love me?" he asked, eyes glittering.

I hesitated a moment and said, "I suppose, in certain schools of thought, this feeling I currently possess could be considered what you refer to as love." He grinned and pressed his face to mine. "Of course", I continued, "in others, it could be considered constipation so I have yet to decide which it is."

"Jerk", he said, rolling off me. He grabbed me and tossed me up in the air, catching me in his strong arms. "Betcha I can beat you down to the cave."

"As if Grayson." And with that, I snaked out of his arms and darted away.

"Hey", he yelped, "no fair, you got a head start."

"Sucks to be you", I called back. He gave an elated cry.

"Damian said something like a normal child. There really is a God! You have learned well my young apprentice." Of course, after that crack, I felt totally justified in kicking both his shins with me weighted toe boots. Boy, did his whimpering sound good.


End file.
